


Memories

by vodkaalec



Series: I'll Give You Everything You Need [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkaalec/pseuds/vodkaalec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard and Thranduil discover something about one another's past</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I finally wrote another fic for this verse! I know it's short but I'm trying to get myself back into fic writing and I quite the length that this ended up being. I hope you enjoy it!

**  
** Bard's not sure how it happened. He and Thranduil now seem to have one day where a week where they hang out and get drunk and vent about their week. They usually hang out in Thranduil's apartment since he has a ridiculous amount of wine but occasionally they'll hang out in Bard's when Thranduil wants to get out of his apartment. 

The first time this had happened, Bard had just finished a particularly rough day at the local university where he's a history professor. After dropping his things in his apartment, he'd crossed the hallway and knocked on Thranduil's door. It took a few moments but eventually Thranduil answered the door with a look of slight annoyance. Which immediately disappeared when he realized it was Bard. 

"Bard?" he'd said, obviously confused why Bard was knocking on his door.

"I need a drink" Bard had said by way of an answer. 

Thranduil had looked a little taken aback before a pleased smirk had appeared on his face. 

"Come in" he'd instructed, standing aside so that Bard could enter before disappearing off to pour two glasses of red wine. 

It had been just what Bard had needed that night. He unloaded all about how he'd turned his office upside down to try and locate tests that he needed to grade only to find that one of the other professors had accidentally taken them so he had to track him down to retrieve them. Then he had had a group of students, from a different paper that he teaches, complaining about the grades that he'd given them for essays that they'd recently had to write. Then when he tried to justify why he'd given them the grades that he had, they didn't want to listen to what he had to say. 

Also, he'd mildly burnt his hand that morning by accidentally spilling hot coffee on it. He chooses not to mention that.

Now, however, they’re in Bard’s apartment. As Bard pours some expensive red wine with a fairly unpronounceable name that Thranduil had brought over into two glasses, Thranduil wanders around Bard’s small living room. As Bard is bringing over their glasses, he notices Thranduil staring intently at one picture frame on Bard’s bookcase. He already knows without looking which photo Thranduil’s looking at.

“My wife” Bard says and Thranduil starts slightly, not realising that Bard has come to stand beside him.

“She’s beautiful” Thranduil comments, turning his attention to Bard briefly to take his glass before returning to looking at the picture.

“She was”

Neither of them say anything for a time, just sip from their glasses, but then Thranduil speaks so gently that for a brief moment, Bard thinks that he imagined it.

“How long ago?” Thranduil asks, eyes still fixed on the photo, and Bard knows exactly what he’s asking.

“Five years ago” Bard replies before taking a large sip of his wine. He doesn’t say anything else; doesn’t want to.

“Six” Thranduil mutters and Bard’s gaze snaps to looks at his profile.

Thranduil looks pained, as if he would rather talk about anything else, and Bard feels awful when a “what?” slips out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop it.

Thranduil gives him a withering look but answers the question regardless.

“I lost my wife six years ago”

They exchange quiet condolences and then, again, they slip into silence. Neither of them talk about what they’ve lost; the pain still too raw despite the years that have passed. They may be friends but it’s still all very recent and neither feels comfortable discussing something this personal with the other. Maybe one day they’ll reach the stage where they feel as though they can but not now.

The air feels between them feels thick tension but, thankfully, Bard has the perfect way to remedy that.

“So” he says, turning to face Thranduil, “how was your week?”

Thranduil smirks, turning to Bard with a gleam in his eye.

“How much time do you have?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably expand on what was touched on in this fic in another installment of this verse. This fic, along with the rest of this verse is also posted over at my tumblr: pavaorganas. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading! :)


End file.
